Life Goes On
by S.M. Koz
Summary: Katniss is finally forced to make a decision.  Will it be Peeta or Gale?
1. Chapter 1

**This story starts on page 380 of Mockingjay, after Katniss' trial and return to District 12. This is my first fanfiction work, so I'd greatly appreciate any constructive feedback. Thank you!**

CHAPTER 1

I'm curled up in a rocking chair in my house in the Victor's Village. Through the window, I see the charred remains of District 12. I watch people I knew in a different lifetime trying to put things back to normal. They're sweeping ashes, laying foundations for new buildings, planting crops in the meadow, and burying the dead. I know I should help them, but I can't move from my spot.

The irony of my life isn't lost on me. Two years ago I volunteered at the reaping to take my sister's place. To keep her alive when it meant certain death for me. I had no ulterior motives, no grand plans for saving humanity; I just needed to protect my sister. And now she's dead because of me. Because of the games everyone played with me. Because I was turned into the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion. The worst part is that it's not just her, thousands of people are dead because of my actions.

If I had only known what was going to happen, I never would've pulled out those berries in the arena. Would I have killed Peeta? Probably not. Would I have killed myself? Maybe. Then Prim would still be here. And Gale would make sure that she and my mother had enough to eat. They would all be fine right now. Instead, I've been sitting here alone and in irreparable despair for weeks.

I hear the front door open and assume it's Greasy Sae or Haymitch bringing me more food I won't touch. Heavy footsteps move down the hallway, but I refuse to turn away from the window. I just want to be left alone.

"Katniss" says an unmistakable voice.

Apparently my survival instinct is still intact because I'm on my feet faster than I thought possible given my complete lack of mobility for weeks. My eyes dart across the room looking for my bow, but it's nowhere to be found. I rush to the left putting the table between me and the visitor. I scan the room again looking for something, anything, that can be used as a weapon since I know I won't stand a chance in hand-to-hand battle with him.

"Want me to grab your bow for you? I saw it by the door," he says with a chuckle.

The sound of his laugh breaks my concentration. It's so familiar, so not what I was expecting. I slowly move my eyes up to meet his and gasp when the realization hits. His easy laughter, his kind eyes, his relaxed face—this is the old Peeta, the boy with the bread.

"Peeta," I whisper.

"Hey. I'm home," he says with a smile.

"You really are," I say in astonishment. "What happened? How did they fix you?"

"Turns out the capitol has Tracker Jacker antivenom. Once Paylor took over, she made sure I received the best care possible."

"And just like that you're back to your old self?" I ask suspiciously.

"Well, I wouldn't say just like that," he grimaces. "It was pretty hard. The antivenom was a thousand times more painful than the initial Tracker Jacker stings. And, I had to go through hypnosis and relive every minute of both of our games."

"But now you clearly remember what happened?"

"Yes. And, as painful as it was to go back to the arena in my mind, it was nothing compared to the distorted reality Snow had fed me."

"Do you remember everything that happened between us?" I ask nervously.

He looks to the floor and nods. Clearly this isn't a topic either of us wants to discuss right now.

I stand staring at him, and I'm not sure what to do. Part of me longs to be in his arms. He's the only one who has ever been able to comfort me. The only one who can stop my nightmares. The only one who has some understanding of the demons I face in my head every single day. But as much as he helps me, I know it hurts him because he wants more from me than I can give. I can't stand the thought of hurting him again after everything he's been through.

Suddenly my head hurts. Too much has happened—things that I may never get over, things that I haven't even begun to process. The thought of adding on the Peeta issue is just too overwhelming. I need to be alone.

"Have you seen Haymitch yet? I'm sure he'd love to catch up with you," I say tersely as I walk towards the front door.

He follows me but pauses at the threshold. He reaches over and gently touches my arm. "Katniss, I was hoping we could talk. We've both been through a lot these last few months and I know I could really use a…" he pauses for a moment.

"Yes, that's always been our problem hasn't it?" I lash out at him, although I'm not sure where the anger is coming from. I should be happy. It's Peeta. He's back to normal and in District 12. I should be happy, right? But the words pour out of me anyway.

"We don't quite know what to call each other, do we? Friends? Lovers? Spouses? Enemies? We've been forced into all those relationships by people around us. So, what is it now? Who's going tell us how to act now?" I scream at him.

Immediately I can see the pain I've caused him. His jaw clenches and sadness fills his eyes. I feel terrible. It's not his fault we were forced into certain things. And, it's not his fault I'm so angry. Who am I angry with? I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that Snow, Coin, Gale, and myself are on that list because we're all responsible for Prim's death. But Peeta certainly isn't. There's no reason for me to be mad at him.

Peeta takes a step backwards and says, "Well, I just wanted to say sorry for the way I treated you in District 13."

"I'm sorry, Peeta. I didn't mean it," I mumble, tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks, my lips quivering. I know my words aren't enough, though.

He nods and starts to turn. I can't leave it like this. After everything we've been through, how can I do this to him? I reach out and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning my head against his chest. Placing one hand on my back and the other just above my braid, he pulls me closer. The effect is immediate. I feel my defenses break down and the tears turn into sobs. I don't remember crying once since Prim died, and suddenly all of my emotions are surfacing. My whole body trembles as I give in to my complete and utter sadness.

Peeta gently lifts me into his arms and carries me to my bed. He doesn't try to talk. He just holds me tightly in his arms for hours. When my tears subside, he tenderly pushes the hair out my face. When the sobbing commences again, he pulls me in closer and kisses the top of my head. I know the dangerous slope I'm heading down by allowing Peeta to comfort me, by getting close to him again, but I can't force myself to stop because it's exactly what I need. I feel myself succumbing to the intense exhaustion that has been worsened by the emotional turmoil of the evening. I'm afraid he'll leave me during the night, and I'll be forced to face the nightmares again.

"Please don't leave," I say with a hoarse voice from all the crying.

"Never," he says softly and then pulls me closer. I feel the heat from his body spill into mine and wonder how I'll ever sleep again without Peeta by my side.

In the morning, I wake to a comforting aroma filling my room. It's the smell of dry, course bread made from the grain rations we received before I became a victor. Funny how that can be comforting—at the time, I longed for days when we weren't under the Capitol's oppression, but now all I want is one more day like that. One more day where I can sit with Prim on our old, worn-out hearth braiding each other's hair and talking about all the great things we could accomplish when we grew up. But that will never happen. I feel my throat constrict and know I'm on the verge of another breakdown. I force myself to think about something else, anything else until the attack subsides.

And that's when I see it, the dry, withered rose on my nightstand. It's the one I saw at the start of the rebellion when Plutarch brought me back so I could see the devastation caused by the Capitol. I can smell it too. Gone is the fresh, yeasty aroma, replaced by the overwhelming sweet scent mixed with the copper-tinged smell of blood. I'm gagging now and know I need to destroy the rose immediately. I grab it, run into the kitchen, and throw it forcefully into the fire. The glass vase shatters loudly into a hundred pieces and the rose is instantly engulfed in blue flames. I take a deep breath, allowing the smell of bread to fill my nostrils, pushing out the scent and memory of President Snow.

"Everything okay?"

I turn to find Peeta, covered in flour, watching me. No doubt he's wondering what new evil I'm seeing in my mind.

"Just a bad memory I needed to get rid of," I say evasively.

He nods as though everything he just witnessed makes perfect sense. Of course he does. This is Peeta. Nice, kind Peeta who is always trying to save me and never does or says anything to upset me.

"I made some bread if you're hungry," he says, interrupting my thoughts. "Unfortunately, you didn't have much in the way of food so I had to make do with the course grain."

"It smells great," I assure him and reach for a roll before sitting down at the table.

He joins me and watches as I bite off large chunks of bread. I don't remember eating for at least a few days and quickly realize that I'm starving. Peeta grabs two more rolls and places them in front of me. He watches me, but says nothing. That's one of the nice things about Peeta—he never forces me to talk, and we are both completely comfortable with silence.

When I start on my third roll, he reaches over to pull a large notebook and pencil from a bag on the floor. He opens up the notebook and his brow furrows as he concentrates on the page. Curiosity gets the better of me after a few moments, so I move around to his side of the table. As soon as I see the picture, I feel bad. It reminds me that I'm not the only one who has lost something. While I was crying my heart out last night, Peeta was silently dealing with his own grief. I didn't do anything to help him. How can I be so cold and selfish?

I sit down close to Peeta so our bodies are touching. I stare at the page as his hand quickly draws in accents and shadows bringing the picture of his dad to life.

"It looks just like him," I say.

"This is how I want to remember him. Happy and strong, always with a smile on his face. "

"Don't forget kind… just like you."

Peeta's hand stops moving and he turns to me. "Thanks." After a few moments, he continues, "This is my way of dealing with everything that's happened. I want to make sure everyone I lost is remembered. So it won't seem like it was all for nothing."

Reflexively I reach for his free hand and wrap my fingers tightly around his.

"You know," he says, "I have you to thank for this. It's your plant book that gave me the idea."

"This is way better than the plant book. Who else have you drawn?" I ask reaching for it.

"Only a few people so far."

I flip the page to see his oldest brother. I turn another page and gasp at the face staring at me. It's Prim.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, almost as if he's embarrassed. "I shouldn't have drawn her. She's your memory and I don't want to take that away." He closes the book and starts to put it away.

But I grab it from him and open it back up to Prim's page. She's beautiful. I've been worried that I wouldn't remember her. That over time I would lose the image of her and the memories of what a caring and thoughtful person she was. But Peeta has captured all of that in his drawing. I touch her cheek and can almost feel her soft skin beneath my fingers.

"It's perfect," I say.

"You're not mad?" he asks.

"How could I be mad? Every day I feel my memories of her slipping away. This will stay with me… " I quickly realize the problem with what I'm saying. This is Peeta's drawing. If I think it's staying with me the rest of my life then that means I think I'm staying with Peeta the rest of my life. And, that's not a commitment I can make to him.

"It's just perfect," I finish absently.

After that, our days fall into a pattern. In the mornings, Peeta bakes and I go hunting. During my own personal Dark Days, as I like to call the time between Prim's death and Peeta's arrival, I never thought I would hunt again. I couldn't imagine being out in the woods—a place that had always brought me such pleasure—when life is so full of tragedy. Why would I ever want to see beautiful flowers or hear melodious songbirds? It didn't seem fair to be happy in a world where so many people had died because of me.

But once I ventured out of the house, I realized that despite destroying the Capitol, food was still a scarce commodity in District 12. The crops wouldn't be ready for months and not many people were willing to go into the forest to hunt even though it was now completely legal.

And since we no longer receive victor paychecks, Peeta and I had to come up with a plan for survival. Between my hunting and Peeta's baking, we're able to feed ourselves and trade for most everything else we need. So, getting back into the forest was out of necessity, just like it was after my father died.

Afternoons are the time of day I enjoy most. This is when we work on the memory book. Peeta draws their faces and I write our memories. In the beginning it was painful and brought us both to tears. But with each passing day it gets a little easier and we find ourselves relishing in the memories and capturing the true essence of each person. One of our favorite entries in the book is Finnick's. I made Peeta draw Finnick in nothing but his underwear as he struck that provocative pose for Boggs and me. Working on that was the first time I laughed since my Dark Days. That was the moment when I realized that with Peeta's help, I may get through this.

Our evenings are always the same. We lay intertwined in each other's arms, sometimes talking about the demons that haunt us, sometimes saying nothing at all. We often talk about how responsible we feel for the thousands of people who died. We morbidly laugh at our absurd naivety the night before the first games. Peeta said he didn't want to be a piece in their games and that's exactly what the two of us became. We were both pieces in the game whether we were controlled by Snow or Coin. Every rebellious act we did trying to be true to ourselves just put us more under their control. While we know we'll never get over what happened, we force ourselves to look at the positive changes for the country. But, it doesn't stop us from wishing we'd been able to make things proceed in a more peaceful manner—that we could have kept more people alive.

Overall, it's a simple existence that seems to suit us both just fine. We live in the present, doing exactly what we need to do to survive, without thinking about the future. It's just easier that way.

About six months after Peeta's arrival, I'm lacing up my leather boots one morning and wondering why I don't hear pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. Something's wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I stand up and walk to the kitchen to see why Peeta's being so quiet. When I reach the doorway, I see him staring out the window at the woods beyond the meadow.

"I'm leaving now. Bye, Peeta."

He doesn't answer. I walk behind him and place my hand on his shoulder. It's not unusual for one of us to be lost in our own mind, temporarily unresponsive. Although that's more often me, than him.

"Peeta, I'm going hunting now. I'll be back in a few hours."

He turns to me abruptly. "Can I come with you today?"

Why does he want to come with me? He knows that his clomping around in the forest scares all the animals away.

As if reading my mind, he adds, "Don't worry, I'll sit while you hunt. I just think it would be nice to spend the morning with you."

"Um, okay," I reply because I'm not sure what else to do. There's clearly something bothering him. There have been plenty of times when I don't want to be alone and Peeta has always stayed with me, so it's the least I can do for him.

We walk down from the Victor's Village, around the meadow, and over to the fence. I crawl under it as easy as always and then turn to find Peeta's shirt caught on the cut wires. It never dawned on me that the hole might be tight, but Peeta is significantly bulkier than me or Gale. Gale. Immediately I know I've made a mistake. We don't even make it past the fence and Gale is already on my mind. The memories of Gale are all over this place from the fruiting blackberry bushes to the hollowed out log that used to hold my bow. This is not going to be a good day. I decide that I need to quickly put Peeta to work gathering blackberries while I check my snares and get a couple rabbits or squirrels. If all goes well, we can be back home in less than two hours, and I won't say or do anything that makes Peeta feel bad.

I unhook his shirt from the fence and help him shimmy the rest of the way through.

"Little tight, huh?" he says with a laugh.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's never been a problem before."

I walk him to the blackberry bushes and give him a small burlap sack. Then I run off into the woods, thankful to be alone.

As I hunt, thoughts of Gale come rushing back like they always do. It's been at least 9 months since I've seen him. Actually, since I blamed him for Prim's death. I still haven't been able to sort out my feelings on that. I don't know if I really do blame him or not. I know I blame myself, but what about him? It's funny how I'm able to so effectively compartmentalize my life. When I'm in the forest, I think about Gale. When I'm at home, it's all about Peeta. The problem is that Peeta is now invading my Gale territory.

I gather the game from the snares, reset them, and quickly take down a wild turkey. I decide that's enough for the day and head back to get Peeta. I need to get him out of the forest as soon as possible.

When I get back to where I left him, I find him sitting causally on the rock. The rock that belongs to me and Gale. I shake my head. Does he have any idea how hard he's making this?

"Hey, you're back," he says happily. "Come join me for a few minutes."

"Don't you think we should be getting back?"

"What for? We've got all the time in the world," he says stretching himself out, sunning his face—exactly like Gale used to do.

I sit next to him tentatively, trying to come up with a plan for getting us out of there.

"So, what'd you get us?" he asks lazily.

"A couple squirrels, rabbits, and a wild turkey."

"Sounds delicious. Want some blackberries?"

"No," I say too quickly. All I can think of is Gale and I tossing blackberries to each other.

He turns to me with a strange look on his face. I twist my head forward to avoid his gaze. But then he's sitting up next to me, gently holding my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. Before I know what's happening, his lips are on mine. My hands find his chest and forcefully push him away. I jump from the rock and stare at him accusingly.

"What are you doing?" True, we've spent every night together since he came back, but it never involved any kissing. "You're going to ruin everything," I yell at him.

"Ruin everything? You're going to have to explain that to me," he snaps back at me.

Peeta's never raised his voice at me. He's never even been angry with me, excluding when he was deranged by the Tracker Jackers. It's a little disconcerting, but somehow better. Yes, I can react to anger with anger. If he were sad or hurt, then I'd be in trouble.

"We have a good thing going now. Why are you trying to kiss me?"

"I agree, we have a great thing going now. I thought it was time that our relationship progress a little. We spend every day together laughing, confiding in each other, holding hands, but you won't kiss me?" His anger is rivaling mine now.

He continues, "I love you Katniss. Okay, it's out there. I love you! Not that you didn't already know that. Tell me you didn't know that I love you!"

Of course I know that he loves me. That's been my biggest concern since he came back. I knew at some point it would come to this and I would once again hurt the boy with the bread.

He continues with more fury when I don't respond. "Tell me this Katniss because I really don't understand. You're willing to risk your life for me. To die for me but you can't even say that you love me? How does that work, huh?"

"You don't understand Peeta!"

"What is there to understand? We live as though we're practically married already. We love to be together and neither of us has anyone else left. What are you waiting for? Someone better?"

"It's not that simple. Why did you pick today to bring this up? And why here, of all places?"

"Why here? Because the forest makes you happy. I thought this was going to be a wonderful thing—I thought this was going to be the official beginning of our life together!" He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets glaring at me. "Why not here?"

I stand completely still meeting his gaze. But the guilt is too much and I have to look away. That's my mistake because he instantly knows what it means.

"Gale," he mutters with irritation. "Seriously, Katniss? He works for Paylor now. Has some fancy job building infrastructure to connect the districts. Has he even come back to see how you're doing?"

No, of course he hasn't. He still thinks I blame him for Prim's death, and maybe I do. Am I holding out hope that Gale comes back? I don't know. I definitely miss him. I would love to have him in my life. Hunting with him in the forest would make life seem a little more normal.

But, Gale isn't the only issue. It's also the whole idea of being married and bringing children into this world. That's never been my plan. But I know telling Peeta that won't help the situation. I grasp for something to tell Peeta that will make him feel better, but I can't come up with anything in this place that screams Gale everywhere I look.

Peeta shakes his head and starts walking towards the fence. I'm tempted to run after him, but what will I do when I reach him? He crawls under the fence, catching his shirt again, but he just yanks it hard, causing a piece to tear off and fall to the ground. Then he walks around the meadow without turning around once. I feel a pang of guilt, along with sadness and definite concern. What have I done now?

I gather up my gear and follow in Peeta's footsteps, taking the piece of his shirt with me. When I walk through my door, I expect to see him at the kitchen table drawing in our memory book, but the place is empty. It feels emptier than it ever has, and I know I've made a huge mistake.

I pull the rocking chair to the other side of the room and watch Peeta's house. As dusk falls, he turns lights on and I can see him moving from room to room. This continues well into the night and I begin to wonder what he's doing. A couple times I stand up convinced I need to go talk to him, but stop myself at the door when I realize I don't know what to say. I want things to stay as they are. I want him here so we can comfort each other, rely on each other, enjoy each other's company, but that's all. He wants something much more. So each time I come back to the rocker and stare at his house trying to figure out what he's doing over there.

_I'm back in the arena. Only this time, Snow is there standing next to Peeta with a bowl of nightlock berries._

"_My dear, dear Katniss. You never did fool me. I knew you weren't in love with this boy."_

"_Touch him and you die, Snow." I reach for an arrow, but the quiver is empty. _

_Snow laughs with pleasure and turns to Peeta. _

"_I told you Peeta. She never cared for you. She made you look like a fool. Is there anything you'd like to say to her in your final moments?"_

_Peeta looks at me with sorrow. "I kept holding out hope that you did love me. That the night on the beach was real. That you just needed to let down your guard and realize your true feelings. But, I know now that you'll never love me."_

_Peeta reaches out his hand to Snow and accepts a berry. _

"_No," I scream. "I do love you Peeta, I do. I'm so sorry, don't do this." But it's too late. His limp body lies at Snows feet who smiles with triumph. "It's too bad your true feelings don't come out until someone's at death's door my dear Katniss." _

I wake with a cold sweat trying to sort out reality from dream. I look at the piece of Peeta's shirt I've been holding onto all night. Peeta is not here. Peeta and I had a fight. He said he loves me. I didn't respond. But… Peeta is not dead. So, this can be fixed. I jump from the chair and run to Peeta's house. I turn the doorknob and the door swings open. Immediately I know something is wrong. The place feels abandoned. Not just empty, but completely abandoned. I go to his bedroom, but it's completely empty.

Then I hear heavy footsteps in the hall.

"Peeta, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," I say running into the hall.

It's not Peeta. It's Haymitch staggering towards me carrying multiple bottles of white liquor.

"You really blew it this time, didn't you sweetheart?"

"Where is he?" I demand.

"Long gone by now. I hope you got your heartfelt goodbye in yesterday."

"Where did he go?" I say more forcefully.

"District 4. Said he wanted a fresh start. Something about painting the sun setting over the ocean. You really messed him up good."

I crumple to the floor. He left me… forever. I finally pushed him to his limit. How am I going to survive without Peeta? That's easy to answer—I'm not. I know that for a fact.

Haymitch hands me a bottle.

"I figured you could probably use one of these today."

I stand, grabbing the bottle from him and run to my house. I take up residence in my rocking chair again and chug the bottle, relishing in the warm sensation flowing from the pit of my stomach down my arms and legs. I anxiously await the cobwebs that will form in my head so I can forget about everything. But, it doesn't work fast enough. I run to Haymitch's house, throw open his door, and run to his pantry. I fill a burlap sack with as many bottles as will fit. I don't know if he's not there or just feels sorry for me, but I'm guessing the former since I doubt he'd let his liquor go this easily.

I run back to my house and crack open another bottle. Mid-way through this one, the fuzziness I'm seeking takes over and I forget about Peeta. I move clumsily through the house opening a new bottle whenever Peeta's name sneaks into my consciousness. I really have no idea how much time passes. Day turns into night, night into day. I don't know where the hours are going. Am I sleeping? Am I passed out? Does it really matter?

After I drain the last bit of liquor from the final bottle, I stagger across the green to Haymitch's house. I push open the door and slowly make my way to the pantry, running into furniture that I'm sure has been relocated since my last visit. I start filling up my bag again when someone grabs my arm and twists it behind my back.

"Not so fast sweetheart. You really think I'm going to let you have my whole stash?"

"I'm not in the mood for this Haymitch. Just give me the bottles," I slur.

He laughs. "I always knew you and I were alike. You're going to end up just like me. Alone, living in a constant state of chemically induced stupor because you can't handle life. I've got to admit though, I didn't think your substance of choice would be alcohol. Back in the capitol, you sure had an appetite for morphling."

"Shut up! I'm nothing like you." I spit in his face and try to pull my arm free. My mind is too fuzzy, though, and any movement makes me dizzy. The dizziness quickly spreads to be stomach and I vomit on Haymitch's bare feet. Serves him right.

He swears and shoves me back into the kitchen. "I've had enough. She's all yours," he yells. Then someone else grabs me from behind and starts carrying me.

"Put me down!" I lash out with arms and legs trying to make contact anywhere possible, but he just holds me tighter. I try to head butt him but he moves his head at the last minute and I just end up with an even worse headache.

"I swear if you don't put me down, I'm going to gut you like a wild hog," I shriek. Finally, my right foot makes contact with his knee. I'm rewarded by a grunt and a muttered expletive. "There's more where that came from," I shout at the top of my lungs while my arms and legs continue to fling violently.

He then kicks open a door and throws me into a bathtub. I'm now facing him and can finally see his face. Gale. Before I can even begin to process that, a stream of frigid water falls over my face, soaking my clothes.

I jump out of the tub cursing and run towards him ready to attack. But when I'm in my best shape I'm barely a match for Gale. With the amount of alcohol in my system, it's no contest. He grabs my wrists and holds them both behind my back with one hand. I try to kick again, but he's pinned me against he wall. I continue to resist, but it has no effect. Eventually, my energy wears out and I give up. I slump against the wall and Gale easily lifts me up. I think I pass out.

The next thing I know, Gale is bringing me broth to drink. It's the last thing I want.

"I'll pass," I say.

"It'll make you feel better," he offers.

"Not likely."

"Suit yourself."

And, then he drinks the entire bowl himself. I'm still furious with him, but now that my mind is clearing, I wonder what's going on. I haven't seen him in months and he just happens to show up at Haymitch's house after I go on a drinking binge.

"What are you doing here?" I ask angrily.

"Heard a rumor that Katniss was falling apart and there was no one else who could help," he says sarcastically.

"I'm not falling apart."

"Could've fooled me."

"Like you've never been drunk before."

"Not for a week straight."

"It wasn't a week."

"You're right. It was 10 days."

Could he be right? Did 10 days really pass? I try to remember back to anything that can give me a sense of time, but there's nothing. I guess I successfully achieved my goal of breaking free from reality.

"So, why exactly are you following in Haymitch's footsteps?" he asks.

"Like he hasn't already told you," I reply narrowing my eyes so he knows exactly how angry I am with their little plot against me.

Gale shakes his head, and Haymitch yells from the other room. "I try to stay out of your boy troubles sweetheart."

Gale smiles. "I see. So this has something to do with Peeta?"

I sit there stone-faced and cross my arms over my chest. There's no way I'm talking to Gale about Peeta.

From the other room, Haymitch yells, "Yeah, she broke his heart once again. He finally had enough and left."

"Thought you were staying out of this, Haymitch," I yell back at him.

Gale looks at me inquisitively. "It's funny—we know each other so well, but I've never understood this part of you. You have two men fighting for you, but you refuse to make a decision. Initially it made sense because of Snow and the rebellion, but there's no one forcing your hand now. You can do whatever you want. Do you honestly think that you can keep us both hanging around? That we'll be at your beckon call whenever you decide it's a Gale night or a Peeta night?"

"So, that's how little you think of me, huh? That I want to have my choice of men on a given night? How about I don't want to hurt anyone I love? Did that ever cross your mind?"

"But you're hurting us every day by not making a decision. You know that I would gladly spend the rest of my life with you. What do you say? Want to pack up and come live with me?"

"Very funny."

"I'm serious, Katniss. You need to decide what you want out of life and act on it! You're so focused on everyone around you, you never stop to think about what you want, what you need. This has gone far enough. You can't have us both and you can't let your life spiral out of control if you lose one of us! You need to choose, eventually start a family, and move on with your life!"

"You know I'm not about to have a family, children."

"Yeah, right," he says mockingly. Then with a little more tact, he quietly adds "You'll be a great mother."

My jaw drops and I stare at him in disbelief. Why has he thought about me being a mother and why does he think I'd be any good at it?

"Don't act so surprised. All you do is care for other people. You cared for Prim, you cared for Rue. It's in your genes. You're a nurturer and you're never going to feel fulfilled unless you do that."

I can't believe he's brining up Prim and Rue. I'm not a nurturer, everyone I nurture dies. I can't bear to be in the same room as him anymore. I stand and walk to the door.

He yells after me, "I already know who you're going to pick, so why don't you just do it already! Or would you prefer I tell you how this all ends? I'll just make the decision for you so you don't have to take any responsibility for your actions. How's that?"

"Give me a break, Gale! You don't know everything about me! And, all I do is take responsibility for my actions. My actions killed Prim, my actions killed thousands of people, my actions will hurt either you or Peeta and there's nothing I can do about it! I'd like for you to take responsibility for once. How many people died during the rebellion because of you? Because of your bombs?"

"The end justified the means, Katniss. War is war. We're a better country because of it!"

He's the same Gale. And we're having the same argument we've had before. I step outside and slam the door closed as hard as I can, which only makes the throbbing in my head more intense.

Back at home, I lay in bed and try to sort through what Gale said. He was right about one thing. I need to figure out what I'm doing with my life. Why am I drinking myself into oblivion? Am I trying to kill myself? Not likely since I could find much more effective methods for that. Am I trying to punish myself? Doubtful since I haven't had one coherent thought in over a week. Am I just putting off the inevitable? That seems to be the most likely explanation. If I'm passed out, I don't have to think about my life, Peeta, or Gale. But where does that get me? I know exactly where that gets me—a fast track to Haymitch's life. I can't end up like him. Gale's right, I need to take care of others. I can't imagine having other people take care of me the rest of my life. That would be a pitiful existence.

So, if I want to take care of others, do I really want to have a family? A husband and children? That was never my plan. But why was that? I force myself to think clearly through the headache that only gets worse with every thought about my future. I remember sitting in the forest with Gale on reaping day. He talked about a family, but I told him I would never do it. I couldn't bring children into this awful world. But things have changed a lot since then. There are no more Hunger Games. There's no more Capitol oppression. Can I really consider having a family now? And if I'm willing to do that, who do I want by my side?

I need to make a decision. I can't continue my life like this—trying to hurt neither of them, but in the process hurting both of them. But choosing one of them means giving up the other one forever. Who am I willing to give up?

_I'm back at District 13 in the Command center. Plutarch and Haymitch are there. They both look at me expectantly. _

"_So, who's it going to be?" Plutarch asks. _

"_For what?" _

"_Katniss, we've been through this. We've got an assault planned for this evening. It's a suicide mission to take out Snow's mansion. The team will not be coming back. Everyone on the team has been decided except for one. You need to make that decision for us. Will it be Gale or Peeta?"_

"_Neither. They both need to stay here with me," I answer matter-of-factly. _

"_You know that's not an option. We're running out of time. Since you can't pick one, we're sending them both," he says definitively and stands._

"_No, wait," I plead. "I'll pick one. Can I just see them one last time?"_

_Plutarch sighs, but asks Haymitch to take me to them. I visit Gale first. _

"_Hey Catnip," he says as I walk in._

"_You know I need to make a decision right?"_

"_It's about time! Someone should've held your feet to the fire months ago!"_

"_It's a lot more complicated than you think, Gale."_

"_Of course it is," he says mockingly. "You know there are plenty of other decisions that need to be made, too. We can't wait around forever for you Katniss. Just make up your mind already."_

"_Okay," I reply simply. I lean over and kiss him lightly on the lips. He pulls me in closer and presses his lips hard against mine. I feel his fire, his rage enter my body. We've never had a kiss like this. My blood burns hotter and the passion intensifies, but we're interrupted by Haymitch clearing his throat. We reluctantly separate, our eyes dilated and our breathing ragged. _

_Haymitch then takes me to visit Peeta._

"_I've got an awful decision to make, Peeta."_

"_I know." He wraps his arms around me and says, "You just need to follow your heart. If you want Gale to stay, I understand. I know he'll take care of you." He laughs quietly and adds, "My number was up the day I was selected as tribute. I'm just lucky to have spent the time I did with you."_

_We both have tears in our eyes. I tilt my head up so our lips can meet. He pulls me closer and runs his hands gently over my back and shoulders. Immediately, I feel his sense of calm enter my body. He moves his lips to my cheek and then tenderly wipes away my tears, letting his fingers linger on my face. _

"_Shhhhhh, don't cry. Everything's going to be fine," he whispers into my ear and kisses my forehead. _

_Haymitch asks, "You make a decision?"_

"_Yes." I know what I need to do. _

_Back in Command, I tell Plutarch my decision. He nods and we all move to the boarding area. I can't believe this is happening. I've tried so hard to keep them both in my life and today is the day I let one of them go. Forever. _

_Once he has his flight suit on, I run to his side and wrap my arms around his neck one last time. I kiss his lips as tears roll down my cheek and land on his suit. "Ah, Katniss, the guys are going to think I've been crying, now. "_

"_I'm sorry," I whisper. "Please know that I do love you, Gale." _

"_I know you do. You just had to decide who you couldn't survive without." He walks toward the aircraft, but stops at the door. He turns and says, "I love you, too, Catnip." Then boards the hovercraft. I'll never see him again. _

My sobbing wakes me up. I've got tears running down my cheeks, but I know my dream was apropos. My decision is made. I love the boy with the bread.

**Please let me know what you think! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Now that I've decided, I wonder why I thought it was so hard. It was always meant to be. Fate has been putting us together for years, but I was too distracted to see it. I need Peeta. I need his kindness, his warmth, and his humor to balance me. Gale is too much like me. Our anger and passion would constantly boil over. It would be like a pressure cooker just waiting to explode.

With a sense of excitement I haven't felt in years, I jump out of bed. Today I set the course for the rest of my life. I quickly go through the house pulling all my important things together. I've got the memory book, the plant book, my parent's wedding photo, my bow and arrows, my dad's hunting jacket, my game bag, the locket, my mockingjay pin, and the spile. But, I'm missing something very important. Where is the pearl Peeta gave me at the Quarter Quell? I go through my drawers, pulling out all the clothes but can't find it. I know that I'm going to have to let it go, but it breaks my heart. That pearl is what I held onto during the rebellion. It was my symbol that Peeta would be okay and that we'd be together again. Of course, if I could only have the symbol or the real thing, I'd take the real thing, and that's exactly what I'll have in a few short days. I put the pearl out of my mind and pack as many clothes as I can fit into my bag.

I stand at the front door looking at my Capitol-provided house and realize I'm not going to miss it all. Everything that's important to me is either in my bag or waiting for me in District 4. Or in the house across the green. I sigh, knowing what I need to do now.

I walk into the house to find Haymitch passed out at the kitchen table and Gale sleeping on the couch.

"Gale," I say quietly, touching his arm.

"Catnip," he mumbles. "Did you come back to apologize for being so rude yesterday?"

"No. I'm here to say thank you. You were right."

"Of course I was right. What about his time?" he asks with a yawn.

"I need to make a decision and move forward with my life."

This gets him to sit up and watch me intently. "So, you've decided." It's a statement, not a question. He already knows who it is.

I nod.

"Give Peeta my best." He doesn't say it meanly, just matter-of-factly.

"When Haymitch wakes up, can you ask him to smooth things over with Paylor since I'm technically under his care right now? I'll give Dr. Aurelius a call once I get to District 4."

"Sure."

I walk to the door and open it, but stop. Is this really my final goodbye to Gale? Can I handle never seeing him in the forest again? Never sitting side-by-side knowing each other's thoughts without speaking? Of course, the alternative is to never see Peeta. While the thought of never seeing Gale again is painful, the alternative is unbearable. Tears well up in my eyes. I run back to him and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Thank you for keeping my family alive while I was away. Thank you for keeping me alive. I do love you, Gale."

"I know. You just love him more. That's been obvious since you kissed him in the cave. It just took you a while to figure it out."

I nod because he's right. There's no sense trying to spare his feelings. What's done is done. He kisses the top of my head and let's me go. I slowly walk away thinking about what I've done. There is some truth to what Gale said in Tigris' basement and in my dream. I did choose the person I can't survive without. But my survival no longer means bringing food home. It now means coming to terms with the past and moving forward. Only Peeta can help me do that. And in turn, I plan on making his life as happy as I can.

The three-day train ride to District 4 is agonizing. With my decision finally made, I want to start the rest of my life. When I finally exit the train at District 4, I breathe in the salty air, which immediately takes me back to the Victory Tour. I remember standing hand-in-hand with Peeta at this very station as our every movement was scrutinized. I remember how scared I was. I didn't know how I could convince the world I loved a boy I didn't really love. I laugh at my how clueless I was back then and quickly move through the station. My first stop is the hospital to visit my mother. I haven't talked to her since I left the Capitol, even though she's been sending me letters every week. I owe her an apology.

I walk through the front doors and see her standing next to a desk talking to a patient in a wheelchair. She hands him medications and explains how they should be taken. She looks happy. I'm struck by how much younger she looks than I remember. District 4 has been good for her.

After her patient rolls away, she looks up and sees me. A smile spreads across her face and she runs to my side. We hug awkwardly.

"Hi," I say.

"Katniss, I was so worried about you. Did you receive any of my letters?"

"Yes, I received them all. I'm sorry. I should've written or called. I was having a hard time of it."

She smiles sympathetically, "I understand that all too well."

I nod and realize that I'm not so unlike my mother. Neither of us handled pain very well. Now that I have first-hand experience of what she was going through, I feel terrible for how mean I was to her. She didn't need my anger, she needed someone to support her, to help her though it.

"I'm sorry. For everything," I say as tears well up in my eyes.

"You don't have to apologize Katniss." She lightly kisses my forehead and suggests we have lunch in the cafeteria.

After getting our food, my mother asks, "So, did you come all the way here just to visit me?" I can tell she doesn't believe that for a moment.

I shake my head.

She smiles. "I noticed that Peeta arrived a couple weeks ago."

"Have you talked to him?" I ask with too much enthusiasm.

"Yes, a couple times. He brings me fresh bread every few days. And last time he stopped by, he brought me a painting."

"Of what?"

"You and Prim. And Lady," she laughs. "It was the day you brought Lady home for Prim."

"Oh," is all I can think of saying. He painted the happiest day in my life as I explained it to him during the Games.

"So, will you be staying long?" she asks hopefully.

I nod.

She raises her eyebrows, but doesn't pry.

After a few moments of silence, I decide I should probably let my mother know my plans. Since I'm moving on with my life, this would be a good time to rebuild our relationship.

I take a deep breath and begin. "I've decided that I want to spend the rest of my life with Peeta. I love him. I realized that I've loved him for a long time, but kept my feelings buried deep. I know I've hurt him pretty badly, though. I'm just hoping he'll forgive me."

She smiles. "I don't think that will be a problem."

After hugging goodbye, I start walking the path my mother described, but the excitement is overwhelming. My pace picks up and soon I'm running through the streets. At the edge of town, I follow a dirt road. On the left is a forest with massive trees. Moss and ferns envelop every surface like coal dust did in District 12. Along my right side are cliffs overlooking the ocean. The whole scene is breathtaking. I slow my pace so I can take it all in. In less than 10 minutes, I reach his house. It's a cedar cabin perched on a cliff with a large wrap-around porch.

I walk up the door and turn the knob. It's open. I enter the small house and instantly feel at home. It's one large room with a loft and sections partitioned off by rugs. To my right is the kitchen with a large table. Beyond that is the living room, which takes up the entire width of the house except for a small corner where walls jut out forming, what I assume to be, the bathroom. In the middle of the room is a set of stairs that lead up to the loft, which is above the bedroom located to my left. The furniture is simple and upholstered in a white and blue pattern, that matches the color of Peeta's eyes.

The best part, though, is the wall of windows opposite where I stand. From here I see the ocean, all the way to the horizon. And in the middle of my view is his back. He's standing on the porch facing a canvas. I stare at his powerful back. I watch his muscles working as he brings his vision to life. This is the first time I've seen him in over two weeks. The longing is intense. I drop my bag and run to the back door. It slides open easily, but nonetheless, he's startled by the noise and turns in my direction.

"Katniss," he says softly.

I say nothing. Instead I walk to him and give him the kiss I know he's wanted from me for a long time. What I wasn't expecting is that it's the kiss I've wanted for a long time, too. I'm instantly transported back to the beach in the Quarter Quell. I pull his body closer, but can't get enough of him. Our lips move urgently. He picks me up and sets me on the railing. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him back to me. Then I remember that I have something important to say.

"Wait, Peeta."

He groans. "Seriously, Katniss?" he whispers thickly between kisses.

"Yes, this is important." I pull my lips from his but keep our bodies close.

"Is this where you're going to tell me that you're marrying Gale?"

"No!" I yell a little too loudly. He can't possibly imagine I'd kiss him like that and then leave him, can he? Then I think back to our history and I'm sure that's exactly what he's imagining because I've done it before.

"Peeta Mellark, I love you. With all my heart. I'm sorry this is so late in coming. You don't deserve that. I made some mistakes, but I'm here to make everything right."

"What about Gale?" I can't blame Peeta for being suspicious. I've hurt him too many times.

"I said goodbye to him. I told him I chose you."

Peeta's eyes light up and a smile spread across his face. "I bet that went over well."

I lightly kiss his cheek. "Let's talk about us instead, okay?"

"Us?" He says it as though it's a foreign concept, something he doesn't quite understand.

"Yes, us. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Peeta," I pause and take a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

His mouth opens and he stares at me in shock. "For real?"

I laugh and lightly punch his shoulder. "Of course, for real!"

"Leave it to Katniss Everdeen to balk tradition and be the one who proposes."

"Soon to be Katniss Mellark."

"That has a very nice ring to …" He stops mid-sentence. "I'll be right back." He pulls away and I pout. "Sorry," he yells over his shoulder as he runs into the house.

I see him rummaging through drawers in the house and can't imagine what he's doing. We're engaged for mere seconds—at least I think we are although he didn't exactly accept my proposal—and then he runs off to find a clean shirt? I'm not sure how I should take that.

He pulls something out of the top drawer and comes running out to the porch holding it behind his back.

"This is kind of awkward and backwards now, but Katniss, I'd like to give you something as a token of our engagement."

"Does that mean you accept my proposal?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Of course I accept. Did I not say that?"

"No," I laugh. "You just ran into the house."

"Oh. Well, there's nothing I want more than to marry you." He reaches out with his left hand and wraps his fingers around mine. "I've known that since we were 5 years old and I heard you sing. I came home from school that day and told my dad as much."

"I'm sorry it took me so long," I say.

"Well, it's not like it was that long. We're only 18. That's still pretty young to get married," he points out.

"I don't feel 18."

"Me neither. I think we've grown up pretty fast with everything we've been through. So you're sure about this?"

"It's the first thing I've been sure about in years."

He pulls his right arm out from behind his back. He slowly turns over his hand and unfolds his fingers. In his palm is my pearl set in a beautiful gold band. He takes the ring and places it on my finger. I start crying.

"I thought I lost the pearl. I was searching all over for it," I say between sobs.

"I'm sorry. I had the ring made before our disastrous trip into the forest. It was in my pocket that day. I planned on giving it to you, but then things kind of fell apart. I didn't know what to do after that. I figured I couldn't give it back because I didn't want you to see that it was made into a ring."

"It's okay. I'm just glad I have it back now. And that I have you, that's the best part."

We spend the rest of the evening inseparable. We sit side-by-side holding hands on the porch until the last bit of the soft orange sunset falls below the horizon. Then we move inside and I curl up next to him in our new bedroom.

"So, how did you spend the last couple weeks," he asks me innocently.

I shake my end in disgust. "Not nearly as productively as you."

"Did you stay in the rocking chair the whole time?"

"Not exactly. I think I spent the better part of the time passed out on the floor."

He leans up on his elbow and furrows his brow as he studies me. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just say I made some bad decisions after you left. There was constantly a bottle at my side in case I regained consciousness."

"Where'd you get the liquor?"

"Where do you think?"

"Haymitch. Damn him," Peeta swears with more anger than necessary.

"It's not his fault. He probably didn't even know I took it."

"So, then Gale was the one who got you to sober up?"

"Yeah, I went back to replenish my supplies and he interceded."

Peeta nods lost in thought. I go back to that night and remember how pitiful I was. I'm embarrassed that Haymitch and Gale saw me like that. At least Peeta didn't. Something isn't right though... Peeta knew Gale was there. How did he know that? Did he talk to Haymitch?

"Hey Peeta?"

"Yeah."

"Have you talked to Haymitch since you left?"

"No, why?"

"Then how did you know Gale was there?"

Silence. This is not a good.

"Peeta?"

"Please don't be mad, Katniss," he says slowly.

I stare at him intently.

"After I left, I was worried about you. I was worried you'd become depressed again. It didn't even cross my mind that you'd turn to alcohol. Anyway, I thought about calling Haymitch, but, to be honest, I didn't have much faith that he could look after you since he can barely look after himself. I didn't know who else to turn to. I figured Gale was the best option."

"So you sent him?"

He nods. "I felt bad leaving you. I know how much you relied on me to help you get through everything. But, I couldn't stay. It was just too much. I was always hoping for more and when it became clear you weren't, I felt totally helpless. I didn't know how I could be strong for you when I was aching so much myself."

"Weren't you worried Gale and I would get together?"

"I wouldn't say worried—more like resigned. I pretty much thought that was a done deal."

"You didn't think I would come here looking for you?"

"No, never. I don't think that thought would've crossed my mind in a million years."

"Guess I'm just unpredictable," I say kissing the tip of his nose.

"That's one of the things I love about you," he says sweetly.

"One of the things?"

"Oh yes, I have a whole list."

I laugh. "What else is on that list?"

"Well, I love that you're lethal with a bow."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, a killing machine. That's what every man looks for in a future wife."

"Hey, it means I know that we'll never go hungry and never need to get an attack dog to feel safe in our home."

"Good point."

"And, I love the sound of your voice, especially when you sing."

"You haven't heard me sing in over a decade!" I complain.

"I heard you sing to Rue when I watched the Games," he says softly.

"That was the one and only time I've sung since my father's death."

"Maybe someday you'll feel like singing again," he says and pulls my body closer to his.

I rest my head on his chest. He pulls the rubber band out of my hair and unwinds my braid, allowing it to fall over my shoulders and around my face.

"And I love your bravery and unwavering dedication to those you love," he continues.

"You think too highly of me."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

I wrinkle my nose, but say nothing.

After a few moments, he pokes me lightly in the ribs and says, "Your turn."

"My turn?"

"What do you love about me?"

"Peeta, you know I'm not good at these touchy-feely conversations."

"But now that you've finally opened up and confessed your undying love for me, I thought it might be a little easier," he prods.

He sounds so hopeful, I can't let him down.

"Okay, okay… I love your bread."

"No kidding?" he says sarcastically. "That doesn't count. You've got to tell me something I don't already know."

I think for a moment and then continue, "I love your eyes."

"The color?"

"No. Well, yes, the color is beautiful. But, it's more than that. They're a window to your soul. One look at your eyes and I know exactly what you're thinking, what you feeling."

"What am I feeling right now?"

I crane my neck so I can see his eyes. "Your peaceful, content, happy… and you want to kiss me again," I say with a smirk.

"You're good." He leans down and our lips meet. I wind my fingers through his hair, but he pulls away.

"You're not getting off that easy. What else do you love about me?"

"Um… I love how you make me feel. Whenever I'm touching you I feel safe, like nothing bad could ever happen again. That's been true ever since the cave."

"You're right. I'll never let anything bad happen to you ever again."

I turn around and playfully poke him in the chest. "And, I love your sexy body," I say in the most seductive voice I can muster.

He laughs. "Oh, please. There's only one sexy person in this house and it's not me."

"Do you really think that?" I say frowning.

"Come on, Katniss. I'm not tall, dark and handsome like Gale. I don't even have both my legs!"

I look down at his artificial leg because honestly, I never even think about that.

"So? Who cares about a leg? You're muscular, blond, and handsome to me," I say trailing my fingertips along the angles of his jaw.

"You're really attracted to me?"

"Of course I am! I've always been. You didn't know that?"

"You do a very good job of keeping your feelings hidden."

I feel a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. I promise to do a better job. To be more open and honest with you. To make sure you know how very much I love you. You deserve that."

We spend the rest of the night alternating between kissing, holding each other, and talking. We make plans for our wedding, we talk about our future, and we laugh together. It's the best night of my life. It's the happiest I can ever remember being. When the first rays of light peek through the window, I turn to Peeta and say, "I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever."

He smiles and replies, "Okay, I'll allow it. 

**Please let me know what you think. Thanks!**


	4. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Peeta and I marry three months later. We have a small ceremony with friends and my mother. Gale surprises us by showing up with his new girlfriend, Leandra. She's nothing like me, but a lot like Peeta. I instantly like her. It seems like Gale and I both needed a calming force in our lives.

After the wedding, we convince Haymitch and Johanna to move to District 4.

Like the days before the first Hunger Games, Sundays are still my favorite day of the week, but for a much different reason now. Rather than spending the day hunting with my best friend, I now spend it enjoying dinner in my home with my husband and the people we love. My mother, Johanna, Haymitch, and Annie and her son are the regulars, while Gale and Leandra show up whenever they're in town.

A year after our wedding, we're blessed by the birth of a beautiful baby boy with blonde hair and gray eyes. We name him Finnick. The day he's born, I find my voice again. Cradling him in my arms, I sing lullabies as he gently drifts off to sleep.

Peeta and I devote our lives to Finnick and can't wait for the day when we can share our wonderful stories about his namesake, his sweet Aunt Prim, and his two kind grandfathers.

True to my word, I tell Peeta every night one thing I love about him. Sometimes it's heartfelt, sometimes funny, and sometimes a memory from our past. With each year that passes, our love grows stronger. We know we'll never forget the demons of our past, but together, we've accepted what's happened and learned to love and live again.

*******This is my first fanfiction work, so I'd greatly appreciate any constructive feedback. Thanks!********


	5. News

I've written another story if you'd like to read it. My plan is to make this the length of a YA book, if there's enough interest to keep it going. Plenty of Peeta and Gale to please folks no mater what team they're on!

It's called Nightlock: s/8367520/1/Nightlock


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